


Soil and Greens

by TheYmp



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Comfort Food, Gen, Men of Letters Bunker, Psychological Horror, Sorry Not Sorry, Unhappy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-18
Updated: 2017-04-18
Packaged: 2018-10-20 17:22:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10667307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheYmp/pseuds/TheYmp
Summary: When Crowley comes to stay with the Winchesters after being deposed from Hell, he finds he's missing the finer things in life.





	Soil and Greens

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or its characters - these were created by Eric Kripke - I'm just borrowing them. I'm not making any commercial gain. No harm or infringement intended.
> 
> Warning: horror

"You really will put anything in your mouth, won't you?" complained Crowley, making no effort to hide the combination of curiosity and disgust he felt as he watched Dean cram a pulled-pork sandwich into his mouth.

"Wuh?" replied Dean around a full mouth, sending out a fine spray of pig meat.

Sam smirked, even while wiping clean his sleeve. "Instilling good table manners wasn't exactly high on the agenda when we were growing up."

"But ganking demons was, so watch it," growled Dean, before tearing off another huge bite.

"When _I_ was the King of Hell, I used to have a kitchen with the finest chefs on call for my every whim," sighed Crowley, letting his head drop to rest on the table.

Sam made no attempt to suppress his copious yawning, having grown all-too-used to the demon's long litany of complaints. Crowley's recent topple from power was thanks to yet another Prince of Hell that had crawled out of the woodwork. _And it couldn't have happened to a nicer, more deserving guy_.

"I'll have you know that this is a classic," Dean added, waving the half-eaten sandwich in the demon's direction.

Crowley sighed again. "To think it's come to this."

"Just be grateful that we're willing to put a roof over your head," muttered Dean, shaking his own head and casting a conspicuous look at Sam.

"Yes, I appreciate your protection, Squirrel," said the former King of Hell, trying to repress an eye roll. He was almost successful. "But you're not going to be much good for too much longer if you keep stuffing yourself with all this artery-clogging crap."

Dean choked out a surprised laugh. "Are you telling me you think I should go vegan or something? Like the _Jolly Green Giant_ here?" He gestured at Sam who was working his way with gusto through a large mixed-leaf salad.

Crowley gave Dean a long, lingering, head-to-toe gaze that put the hunter in mind of taking a shower. "Well, admittedly you're in _fairly_ good shape, but you're not getting any younger."

Sam choked on a mouthful of arugula leaves.

"I'm younger than _you_ ," Dean spluttered in outrage. "Besides, I couldn't give up burgers, or... _bacon_!"

"No, but you could eat organic meat," chipped in Sam, unable to resist adding his own two cents. "Something that's been given wholesome food and allowed to exercise and run free, instead of crammed into a cage and force-fed slop while knee-deep in its own filth."

Crowley leaned his head on one hand and sighed again. "I really do miss Hell."

~#~

Crowley had caught word that one of his supporters was still alive and being held for questioning. Someone, he'd assured the Winchesters, who would be essential to them in the days to come and the fight to regain Hell. From the intelligence he'd gathered, it should have been a simple retrieval, but in the end the brothers had barely escaped with their lives.

"Somebody remind me why we agreed to help you?" asked Dean, shaking his head and frowning in honest bewilderment as he limped over to a chair and collapsed into it with an exhausted groan.

Crowley sighed. He'd noticed how frequently that happened when dealing with the Winchesters. "Because I'm a _moderate_ and everyone's safer with Hell in _my_ hands than that... that... _fanatic_."

"Yeah, well, _I_ still wouldn't vote for you," grumbled Sam, as he tried to massage the feeling back into his shoulder.

"Sweet, _deluded_ Moose," sniggered Crowley. "Have you really not realized yet that there's no such thing as democracy?"

"So who exactly is this guy anyway?" interrupted Dean, pointing at the very undemon-like rescue cowering in the corner, in an attempt to steer the conversation before it descended into yet another argument.

Crowley smirked. "My chef."

Putting all of his considerable strength into it, Sam punched Crowley in the face.

~#~

Dean wandered in from the garage, relieved, but suspicious, at the blessed silence. He poked his head around each door until he finally found Crowley reading in the library with his feet up on the table.

"Sammy not back from his run yet?" he asked as he used an old rag to wipe the engine grease from his hands.

"I'm sure he'll turn up eventually," said Crowley, with a theatrical sigh. "You _really_ need to untie those apron strings. Speaking of which... I'll be right back."

The demon disappeared into the kitchen and returned a moment later carrying a large silver platter piled high with burgers with all the trimmings.

"Here," he said triumphantly. "Try one of these."

Dean gave him the side eye, but the food did look very good. He took a burger and bit into it hesitantly, his eyes widening at the explosion of taste on his tongue.

"This is real good," he declared, devouring the rest in short order.

"I know," said Crowley smugly. "I've had two already." He waved at the serving plate. "Another?"

Dean nodded, reaching forward eagerly to grab another burger. He moaned with delight at the delicious, slightly unusual, flavor. "What kind of meat is this?" he asked around a mouthful.

Crowley smiled, and waited until Dean had taken another bite.

"Moose."

(;,;)


End file.
